


Rum Is Better Than Port

by TajaReyul



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Gen Work, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TajaReyul/pseuds/TajaReyul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack pays Elizabeth a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rum Is Better Than Port

**Author's Note:**

> Written for pan_alchemist's birthday because it was she that coined the term “sparrowing”, meaning stealing, pirating or just plain borrowing without the owner's permission.

He rode in on the morning tide. Jack Sparrow: one-time captain of the _Black Pearl_ , adventurer, pirate, drunkard, all-around rouge and madman.

She met him at the edge of the beach, her sword at her hip and a pair of pistols in her belt. It was generally safest to go armed around Jack and besides, he'd expect it.

“Elizabeth! My dear, how lovely to see you.”

“Jack,” she acknowledged as he bowed extravagantly over her hand.

“You're looking quite well.” He tilted his head to the side and allowed his gaze to wander slowly down her body.

“For a married woman,” she qualified pointedly.

“And how is our Captain Turner? Oh yes, still at sea. For another...five years, isn't it?”

Something like that,” she agreed coolly, the steely glint in her eye hinting she knew down to the day how long Will Turner would be bound from setting foot on dry land. “What do you want, Jack?”

“Just a little thing, really. A trifle.”

She waited, her hand on the pommel of her sword.

“I've—ah--mislaid (terribly embarrassing) some items that were entrusted to me. I could retrieve them myself, eventually, but time is against me in this venture, savvy?”

She laughed quietly. “Who would be idiot enough to trust you?” she wondered aloud. “The answer is no.”

“Beg pardon? I could have sworn you said--”

“No, Jack. I said no. I won't be leaving this island until Will returns. You know I must remain true to him until his ten years aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ are finished. You _are_ the one who pressed him into that service, after all.”

He waved his hand as if that detail were completely insignificant. “If I hadn't, he'd be dead right now. I've been dead. There's a reason we spend all our lives trying to avoid that state. (You'll notice I very magnanimously did not mention that you were responsible for my sojourn on the other side of the veil.) Surely you can remain true to your beloved Will no matter where you are? Unless,” his tone turned sly, “you don't trust yourself alone with me. It has been five long, lonely years since you last tasted passion and you always did harbor a deep desire for me.”

She narrowed her eyes, but did not otherwise rise to the bait. “Even if I were inclined to accompany you on this fool's errand, I cannot leave my son.”

His mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Your son! You have a son? Well,” he floundered a moment, “bring him along! We can always use a powder-monkey.” He checked at her thunderous expression. “Cabin boy?”

“He's _four years old!”_

“Never too young to start learning a trade...” He trailed off as he stared down the barrel of one of her pistols. “No?”

“No.”

“Come on, love, don't you miss it? The wind in the rigging? The creak of the timbers? The flash of steel and the smell of gunpowder? Well, all right, perhaps you don't miss that as much,” he backed up a couple of steps as she re-aimed her pistol from his face to a part of his anatomy much more dear. “Elizabeth, you were a pirate, captain of your own ship. Bloody hell, woman! You were the Pirate Queen! Where's your sense of adventure?”

She made no reply and he began to realize he wasn't coaxing her off her island. Not today, at any rate.

“I don't suppose you have any rum?”

“Oh, Jack,” she sighed in exasperation as she lowered her pistol. “Why is your rum always gone?”

He departed on the outgoing tide, empty-handed but for a dusty bottle marked 'for medicinal purposes'.

“It never would have worked out between us,” he said unconvincingly and took a long drink.


End file.
